


Secrets and Lies

by DoctorBilly



Series: The Irregulars [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Billyverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-24
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-08 22:10:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3225263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Billy finds that his daughter has unwittingly become entangled in something that Mycroft has been working on since before she was born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rufus

"Rufus says drawing is inferior to photography."

"Does he?"

Billy smiles as he adds the finishing touches to the sketch of his daughter.

"Oui, papa. He says that artists tell lies."

Billy frowns.

"Well then. I must not be a very good artist. I can only draw what I see. I'm not clever enough to draw things I can't see."

Hero laughs.

"You are not a _real_ artist though, papa."

"No. That's true." He smiles, putting his sketch book away. "Have you heard from your dada lately?"

Hero nods.

"Yes. But we cannot Skype from here. Only telephone. I miss him…"

Billy smiles and ruffles her curls.

"I know, lovey. But he is working on something very important, and you wouldn't want to be left with Solange as a babysitter…"

"Bof. Pas trop…"

Billy laughs. The look on Hero's face is pure French disdain.

"Rufus says…"

"How old is Rufus, sweetheart?"

Billy is getting a little fed up with hearing about the mysterious Rufus.

"Nine. He will be ten next week. Uncle Jack is going to let me help make a birthday cake. It will be a surprise."

"Uncle Jack is a good uncle…"

"Oui. And uncle Mycroft. And dya-dya."

Billy bites his lip.

"You miss your uncle Arkasha?"

"Oui. And do you miss him, papa?"

"Yeah. But he's busy too."

" _Everyone_ is busy. Are you busy, papa? And uncle Luka? Too busy for me to live with you?"

Billy hears the wistfulness in her voice, and thinks his heart will break.

"Yeah. I would love to take you with me, cherie, but the place I live would not be good for a little girl. Once I've finished the work I have to do, we'll go to France. How does that sound?"

"Can we take Rufus? He misses his papa too…"

They are interrupted by a cough from the doorway.

"Hello Mycroft. Been standing there long?"

"Hm. Long enough. Hello, Bill. Hero, tea is ready in the kitchen. Run along before the boys eat it all. Ask Jack to save a cake for your papa. We will join you shortly."

Hero giggles and skips away. Mycroft indicates that Billy should follow him, and leads him to his study.

"Please take a seat, Bill. There are things we need to discuss."

Billy sprawls on a small velvet sofa, watches as Mycroft pours whisky into two cut-crystal glasses.

"Why don't you want me to see my daughter?"

Mycroft frowns.

"I have no wish to prevent you from seeing Hero, Bill…"

"You knew I couldn't leave England, Mycroft."

"It was Gregor who took her to France."

"I know. So that Michelle and Claude could help look after her when Arkasha left with Shezz…"

"Yes. It would have been difficult for him to look after her alone, at his age."

"But she was only little then. She's six now. And he's been to London with her twice since I got out of prison. It wasn't a problem then. Why is it now?"

"There is a… situation. It is very complex, and unfortunately, it means that Hero must remain here for an indefinite period…"

"No."

"I'm sorry, Bill. I must insist."

Billy scowls.

"Myc, I don't want to think you mean her harm…"

" _Of course_ I do not mean her harm."

"All right then. Give me some sort of explanation. Tell me what you can." He laughs, the sound like broken glass in the quiet room. "Don't want me blundering around getting hold of the wrong end of any sticks…"

Mycroft sighs, pours a second drink for himself, tops up Billy's glass, nods assent when Billy pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

"Very well. I don't know how much interest you have in constitutional matters?"

Billy blinks. _Constitutional matters?_

"Not much. I know some stuff blew up when the King popped his clogs, but I was inside then. Some sort of scandal…"

Mycroft nods.

"Yes. A scandal indeed. We were able to contain it until the heir compounded it by abdicating his claim to the throne. His brother, who had only ever expected to be the " _spare_ ", disappeared, leaving his aunt, the Princess Royal, on the throne as Regent."

Billy shrugs.

"I'm not a royalist _or_ a republican. I don't really care, as long as I'm left alone."

Mycroft smiles grimly.

"I sometimes wish I could be as offhand about it all. I'm sure you realise my retreat to Scotland was not simply a matter of finding some better scenery outside the back door…"

"Yeah. Retirement didn't ring true. "

"Indeed. I need to be out of the country, though. Having a Scot for a husband was very convenient."

"You were working up to leaving for a long time…"

"It was a contingency plan. But yes, the scandal I spoke of was a long time in breaking. It was an added difficulty in my work at a time when the Holmes personal lives were already proving to be an enormous distraction. I broke a sweat more than once…"

"You looked like you were heading for a breakdown. Or was that an act?"

"I allowed my reactions to circumstances to show. My wedding, and Sherlock's. John's death. The conception and births of our children. My brother's…your…incarceration…"

"Enough to knock anyone off-kilter."

"Yes."

Mycroft drinks his whisky, debates whether to have a third glass. Decides against it. Billy watches him carefully.

"How does this relate to Hero?"

"Gregor Lestrade found himself in an impossible position. Solange Draper insisted on meeting his daughter. He had no good reason to refuse, and took Solange to France. He soon realised that her purpose in meeting Hero was to interrogate her. Principally about her uncles Sherlock and Arkady."

Billy stares.

"Hero knows something…"

Mycroft nods

"She does. I cannot tell you what it is she knows, and I must ask you not to probe, Bill. Hero is entirely unaware that what she knows could be dangerous for her uncles."

"All right. But Solange is in London. Engaged to Greg. She'll be Hero's stepmother…"

"Surely you do not think Gregor will actually marry that woman, Bill?"

Billy frowns, light dawning

"He's still on active service…"

"Yes." Mycroft smiles. "He is in deep cover. And now that Solange has been appointed DCI, she will be kept busy in London. Hero is of course continuing her education in France. Claude and Michelle will be in loco parentis, dealing with enquiries, problems…"

"But she's here…"

"Yes. But to all intents and purposes, she is not. Electronic records are easily adjusted. I strongly suggest that when you leave here, you go to France for a few days. We must keep up the pretence. It is very important, Bill."

"All right. So Sherlock and Arkady are working on something to do with the constitution crisis."

"Yes. Will you go to Toulouse, Bill?"

"Yeah. It won't hurt to check in with Claude. Lucien can hold the fort in London for a bit longer."

"Ah, yes. Lucien. How are things going with him?"

"Fine. He's a good friend, Myc. I couldn't manage without him."

Mycroft nods.

"Good. You need friends."

The two men leave the study, Mycroft leading the way to the kitchen, where a noisy nursery tea is being eaten. Hero is the queen of the table, in charge of a plate of small cakes, which she is keeping out of the reach of her cousins, Lennox and Fergus. She is the only female in the room, and the only blonde, among what seems to be a huge crowd of red-heads.

Billy glances around, noting Jack Logan's fiery red, and Lennox's darker ginger hair, closer to Mycroft's colouring. Fergus, Logan's son, has paler curls. " _Strawberry blonde_ ", Billy thinks. " _He'll be the brother with the looks_ ". There is another redhead at the table, another child, with freckles and thick, sandy ginger hair.

"You must be Rufus…"

"And you must be Dr Wiggins. Hero's father. How do you do, sir?" 

The boy stands up and holds out his hand. Billy takes it and shakes hands, surprised. The boy is very self-assured. And _very_ polite. 

Mycroft coughs from behind Billy. 

"There is no need to be so formal, Rufus. Bill is family." 

He smiles at Billy, daring him to question what he says next. 

"Rufus is a relative. A cousin to our three children. He is staying with us while his father is busy abroad." 

Mycroft rescues the plate of cakes from Hero, and waves the children out into the garden to take advantage of the last minutes of late afternoon light. Billy watches Rufus as he takes charge of the game. He seems vaguely familiar. 

"Don't stare, Bill." Logan has crept up beside Billy. "We treat him just like the others." 

"Who is he, Jack?" 

"Ah. You don't know. I'd better shut up, then. Myc won't thank me for giving away secrets." 

"I take it he's important?" 

"Aye. And another reason why Hero needs to stay here. I'm sorry, Bill. We both are. Myc really doesn't want to keep her from you any longer than he has to." 

Mycroft comes back from the garden, but stands in the doorway, watching the children. 

"Bill, you must not tell anyone you have seen Rufus here. Not even Lestrade." 

"I won't mention him. I don't know who he is anyway." 

"Thank you. Hero is safe here, you know. She is with people who love her. You do realise that, don't you?" 

"Yeah. Keep her safe, Myc." 

"I owe you so much, Bill." 

Billy is astounded when Mycroft hugs him. 

"You're scaring me, Myc." 

Logan laughs in Billy's ear. 

"He's turned into a human since Lennox was born. I owe you for that, too. We'll look after your wee girl, Bill. She'll be safe."


	2. I'm no one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy goes to France, and learns something. There is a painful reunion, and another that will have long term consequences. 
> 
> Note: angst warning.

Billy walks quickly through the airport lounge, his coat swirling around his calves, a new/old vintage find, a little loose on him. His old despatch bag is slung over his shoulder. He is travelling very light, there are plenty of his clothes and other belongings at his destination.

He almost misses the woman waiting to give him a lift; she has to skip to catch him up, catching his sleeve.

"Monsieur Bill, attendez…"

Billy stops and spins, smiles at the woman and greets her with kisses on both cheeks.

"Michelle. It's good to see you. I wasn't expecting to be picked up…"

"Monsieur Jack telephoned. Claude is preparing your room."

Michelle leads him to her car, looking back over her shoulder as she unlocks the door for him, the wind almost whipping away her next words.

"Your brother is at the house."

Billy blinks.

"But I just left him. He can't be… _Oh_. Sherlock."

"Oui. A short visit, he says."

Billy is listening for what she does _not_ say.

"Is Major Yegorov with him?"

Michelle nods, and places her hand over Billy's, gives a little squeeze.

"He is…"

Billy bites his lip, a cold pain settling in his belly.

 

 

*********

 

Michelle takes Billy's despatch bag and bustles off towards the kitchen door, gesturing to Billy to take the path towards the side of the house. He frowns, and follows her directions, wrapping his coat around him to keep the late March winds at bay. As he turns the corner he is grabbed and held in a bear hug.

"Billi."

Billy's knees give way and he clasps Arkady's coat to hold himself upright. He can't speak, the wind, and the sudden hug, have taken his breath.

"Come. Walk with me."

Arkady puts his arm around Billy's waist, and steers him into the garden. Billy swallows hard, finally gets his voice back.

"I didn't expect you to be here…"

"We leave tomorrow. Our assignment is not over, Billi."

"I know you can't talk about it. I won't ask questions."

Billy looks sideways at Arkady. Something doesn't feel right.

"I've just come from visiting Hero. She misses you…"

Arkady smiles

"I miss her, also. I have a gift for her." He lets go of Billy and undoes the clasp of a string of beads he is wearing around his neck. "Baltic amber."

Billy takes it and puts it around his own neck.

"I'll keep it safe for her. She will love it."

"I have something for you also, Billi."

He takes a bangle from his left wrist and wraps it around Billy's. Billy peers at it closely. There are small beads, more amber. Beads of dark green; dark, reddish brown, almost black; pale, creamy yellow, and the more usual 'amber' colour. They are strung on what looks like white wire, thicker at one end, tapering to a fine thread, the wire itself is wound in silver, held securely with crimps at both ends. The bangle does not fasten, but it is flexible, wrapping securely twice around Billy's thin wrist. It will not fall off easily.

"What's it made of?"

"It is the whisker of a Siberian tiger."

Billy blinks

"Aren't they endangered?"

"Da, but they shed the whiskers, like all cats. Sometimes people find them. They are rare."

"Thank you." Billy blinks tears away. "You went home, then?"

"Da. I was sent. It was the last time. I will not go back again. I am sorry I have to break my promise to take you to look for tigers…"

Billy pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering them to Arkady, who shakes his head. Billy lights his own cigarette and draws in the smoke, squinting as it gets in his eyes.

"So, you and Sherlock?"

"Da. It was inevitable, I think. You are happy with Luka?"

Billy turns so that Arkady cannot see his face.

"Lucien has been, _is_ , a good friend. We've never…" he chokes, coughs, hoping Arkady will think it is the cigarette smoke. "He was there for me when I got out of prison. I lean on him too much, though."

He realises Arkady has not spoken for a while and turns to look at him. Arkady's face is blank. His eyes are bleak.

"You thought me and Lucien were together." He smiles tightly.  "I suppose we have been, in a way. But we're not lovers. I've been waiting for you to finish what you were doing and come back to me."

Arkady wraps his arms around Billy, holds him tight.

"I thought… everyone said…" he swallows, his voice thick. "Oh, my heart, I grieved at losing you."

"You didn't lose me." Billy's voice is flat. "I lost you, though, didn't I? I thought you were dead, you know. When I confessed. It was days before I knew you'd survived."

Arkady strokes Billy's hair. His voice breaks as he speaks.

"I waited when you were held on remand. I expected that you would be released within weeks. I thought, we all thought, the trial would be a formality. It was a shock for all of us when you were convicted. None of us expected it. Luka, he was _anguished_. It was so clear how much he loved you. He had to be restrained. Talk to Fedya, he will tell you."

Billy shudders, feeling sick.

"You stopped visiting pretty quickly once you knew I wasn't getting out soon."

"I was still recovering from the shooting. And it was harder after they moved you to the north of England, to the other prison. It would have meant overnight stays. Grisha did not want to let Hero go far from him. I was still waiting, Billi. I waited for a year, helping Gregor learn how to be a father, helping him to start a life with her, here. But then I was recalled to Russia. Vishka went with me."

"And the inevitable happened." Billy laughs, harshly. "Colleagues under fire? That sort of thing? And you'd been together before…"

"Da. And when you were released, I got word that you and Luka were living together…"

"You didn't ask _me_. If you were getting reports, you could have got word back."

"My source was reliable, I thought."

"You thought there was already something going on, even before that Christmas."

"He was always at your side. There was talk."

"Yeah, well. There always _is_ talk. People judge…"

"I am sorry, Billi. I have never meant to hurt you."

 

*********

 

Sherlock stands at the sitting room window, watching Arkady and Billy in the garden. He is startled by a voice close behind him.

"Not like you to let someone creep up on you, Will."

"I was preoccupied…"

The owner of the voice laughs.

"What's going on out there? I thought you and Arkasha were…"

"Oh dear. I thought we'd been discreet."

"Arkasha's a romantic. He'll always give himself away. Who's the waif?"

"Hardly a waif, now. Although he is thinner than I remember. That's Dr Bill Wiggins, my brother. And Arkasha's ex."

"Ah. The one who was in prison?"

"Yes. Unjustly convicted, in my opinion."

Sherlock and his companion move away from the window, crossing the room and going to the kitchen, where Michelle is serving lunch.

Billy and Arkady come in from the garden and join them. Arkady helps Billy to take off his coat, and carries it out to the hallway, shrugging off his own, and hanging them together. He rejoins the group in the kitchen, sitting in the only empty chair, between Claude and Sherlock. Billy is seated next to Michelle, directly opposite the man who had been speaking to Sherlock earlier. The man has freckles and red hair. He looks familiar.

Sherlock leans his elbows on the table, fingertips steepled in front of his mouth. He peers at Billy.

"You're unhappy."

"Yeah. Just had some bad news. Leave it, Shezz."

Sherlock turns slightly to scrutinise Arkady.

"You're unhappy as well."

"Da."

The red headed man raises an eyebrow.

"What are you both unhappy about?"

Billy scowls

"It's really none of your business. Who are you, anyway?"

The redhead blinks, and holds out his hand for Billy to shake.

"Sorry, Dr Wiggins. I'm no-one. Name's Hal."

Billy realises why the man looks so familiar.

"You're Rufus's dad…"

Hal grins, suddenly looking younger and even more familiar.

"You've seen him? How is he?"

"He's fine. Sir."

Hal groans, realises he has been recognised.

"Just Hal, please."

"My daughter's really taken with him. I'm not supposed to have seen him. Or you, I expect."

"I'm missing. Whereabouts unknown. Arkasha and Will have been very helpful."

"Yeah. 'Arkasha and Will'. Got a nice ring to it…"

"Billy." Sherlock stands and moves away from the table. "We need to talk."

"Can't think what about." Billy shrugs, but follows anyway.

He and Sherlock go outside. Billy lights a cigarette, and is surprised when Sherlock takes it from him and takes a deep hit. He shakes his head when Sherlock offers it back to him, lights another.

"What are you and Arkasha upset about?"

"I'm upset because until half an hour ago I was waiting for him to come back to me. I expect he's upset because he didn't know I was waiting."

"You were in prison. Arkasha was lonely. And I was lonely too, Billy. After John…" 

"You had Greg. He loved you. Why couldn't you be happy with him?"

"The child, your child, took too much of his attention."

"You're a heartless bastard. Or were you _jealous_ of her?"

Sherlock flushes.

"I needed… We had history, Billy. It was easy to fall back into that relationship. You were not entirely alone, either."

"You and Mycroft have had people watching me. You knew…you _know_ I'm not fucking Lucien. You could have told Arkady, when he had doubts." Billy grinds out his cigarette with the toe of his boot. "I would have understood you turning to each other on your mission, in the heat of the moment. But you let him think I didn't want him. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for that, Sherlock."

"I will have to live with that."


	3. Dancing at the Electric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sally Donovan goes dancing, and finds trouble, but not for herself.

"When do you think you'll be back?"

" _If there's no delays, I should be at St Pancras by about three. Home before four_."

"Okay. I'll be later. About ten. My last session  here doesn't finish until six. I'll see you when we both get back."

" _I might go out. The Electric, probably. feel like dancing._

_Luce frowns. He wishes he could leave the conference early, but the last, late session on cyber defences is the one he has really come for, and he doesn't want to miss it._

__

"Will you be going on your own?"

__

" _Sorry. Going into the tunnel…_ "

__

 

__

 

__

*********

__

 

__

Detective Inspector Sally Donovan looks up from her desk at the sound of a throat being cleared.

__

"Hello Dr Knox. Need something?"

__

"I was wondering if you fancied going dancing tonight?"

__

Sally raises her eyebrows

__

"Didn't think I was your type…"

__

"I've seen you on the dance floor, and to be honest, you're a better dancer than most." Frankie laughs. "And in a good pair of heels, you're close to my height. We'll look good."

__

Sally looks at the pile of papers on her desk. None of them are so urgent that she can't take an evening off. A night out dancing with someone who won't be _handsy_ doesn't sound like a bad idea.

__

"All right. But only if you wear trousers."

__

Frankie roars with laughter

__

"All right. Dress like a biker chick. I'll pick you up at eight."

__

Sally smiles, texts him her address and hopes she isn't making a mistake.

__

 

__

*********

__

 

__

Billy scrutinises himself in the bedroom mirror. His glance skims over the ugly scar on his ribs, lingers more critically on the bones and hollows, the prominent joints. He thinks he might have lost a bit of weight, but has no way of checking, since Luce lost his temper and threw out the bathroom scales. He hopes his calculations aren't too far off.

__

He dresses carefully. Leather trousers, padded at the knees and hips, will disguise his skinniness to some degree. He adds a black vest and a heavy belt, topping and tailing with his biker jacket and boots. He rests his elbow on the table to steady his hand, and draws fine black kohl lines around both eyes. Finally, he scuffs his hair with a bit of gel, and checks himself over in the mirror again, nodding with satisfaction. He won't look out of place.

__

Billy finishes his preparations and leaves, locking the door behind him. The Electric Ballroom is within walking distance of his flat, and he leaves his bike behind, noticing the Harley Davidson, now Frankie's, is gone from its usual parking space. _"Must have a date_ " he thinks. " _Wonder who with?_ "

__

Billy doesn't notice Micky Jay following him.

__

 

__

*********

__

 

__

Sally, dressed in a short denim skirt and black leather knee boots, is having a whale of a time. Rock music isn't usually her thing, but the atmosphere is good tonight, and she lets herself go, relying on Frankie to lead her in the jive.

__

Frankie is a good dancer, but Sally gradually notices he is keeping them in one corner of the room, with her back to the other dancers. She twists in his arms, turning to face the dance floor.

__

"Who are you watching? Oh, please…"

__

Billy H Wiggins is in a world of his own, eyes a little glazed, plastic beer glass in his hand. As Sally watches, he stumbles a little, and is caught and set right by a well-muscled man she doesn't recognise. Frankie whispers in her ear.

__

"Sorry. It's been fun, but I think it's about to stop."

__

Billy's new friend hands him a fresh beer. It is already poured in a plastic pint glass, and Frankie frowns as he watches Billy down half of it in one swallow.

__

"Not like him to take a drink from a stranger. I'm going to cut in. Can you get someone to have a look at what's in that glass?"

__

Sally sighs, nodding and following him onto the dance floor. He reaches Billy, takes the glass from him and hands it to Sally. Billy does not resist, just smiles and turns to dance with Frankie, wobbling a little.

__

The other man shoulders Frankie out of the way, and steers Billy towards the door, using his bulk to clear the way. Frankie follows more slowly, hindered by grabbing, groping hands as he fights his way through the crowd. Outside, there is small, crumpled figure on the ground, being studiously ignored by the scattered but reforming queue of people waiting to get into the club. Frankie pushes through the queue, dropping to his knees. Sally follows him, calling for backup and an ambulance.

__

The crumpled figure is Micky Jay. There is no sign of Billy.

__


	4. Witness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy is in serious trouble. Can Lestrade get to him in time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for drugs

"He's not talking. He's well out of it, drugged up to the eyeballs. I reckon someone else got to him before we did. I didn't give him enough of a dose to put him out this quickly."

The woman is disgusted.

"Can you wake him up?"

The enforcer shakes his head.

"No. Looks like an O/D. He's had it. You won't get anything out of him."

The woman scowls.

"We need to get rid of him. They'll search, he's got friends at the yard. Records are sketchy, though. Dump him in the canal. Make sure he's alive when he goes in, those boots will weigh him down. It'll be an unfortunate drowning, fallen in under the influence of drugs. He's an ex-junkie. Must have relapsed."

The enforcer laughs.

"Pity."

"Yes. We're back to square one. I'll have to work on Lestrade again. That daughter of his is the key, I'm sure."

DCI Solange Draper gently holds Billy's chin, turning his face toward her. Billy's eyes are open, unfocused. She frowns.

"His eyes are like the child's. Unusual colour. Get a sample of his saliva. I want a DNA test done. He's young enough to be a son. Illegitimate?"

She stands and dusts herself off, peeling off her gloves and putting them in her pocket for disposal later. She is too experienced a police officer to leave them to be found. She turns and walks away, leaving the enforcer to dispose of the evidence.

 

*********

 

Luce gets the call from Frankie just as his train is pulling in to the platform at Euston. He runs. Later, he will wonder just how he managed to move so fast.

"I've got a trace. He's here. We're right on top of him…"

Sally Donovan directs her team to search the area. They are in a warehouse, backing into the Regents Canal that cuts through North London. Frankie has a copy of Luce's tracking software on his phone, and it is giving him a steady phone signal. He feels sick, the system has not been tested extensively, he hopes it hasn't failed at the crucial moment.

Sally's phone lights up. She holds up her hand for silence while she listens.

"Outside, now!"

The team respond instantly. Outside, there is an almost-nonexistent path, a muddy grass verge leading to the canal. Luce is kneeling on the edge of the footpath, grasping the sodden leather jacket that has got caught on rubble just below the surface of the canal, stopping the body in it from sinking.

Sally peers through the gloom. The only street lighting is on the far side of the canal. She can make out what looks like two men in the water. As she gets closer, she hears one of them sobbing incoherent syllables of encouragement to the other.

"Get down there and help them. _Get him out before he drowns as well._ "

Frankie moves fast, shoving uniforms aside. He reaches Luce and kneels along with him, hauling the sodden mass towards the bank. Sally's team help the other man ashore, leading him away from the water.

"Let me go." Gregor Lestrade sobs. "Tell them to let me go, Sal."

"Don't be stupid, sir. You'll get in the way. Let them work."

There is a shout from the canal side. "

There's a pulse. We need paramedics, fast!"

 

*********

 

Micky Jay scowls from under heavy bandages.

"I don't want to stay here, Dr Knox. I feel all right. Just a bump…"

Frankie smiles and pats the youth's hand. It is more than a bump. The youngster has two black eyes and a not-quite-broken nose.

"It's just a precaution, Micky. They just want to keep an eye on you overnight. You were knocked out…"

"She bashed me with the car door…"

"She?"

"That copper. The ginger one."

"Deliberately?"

"No. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking out for her henchman. The one who had hold of Dr Wiggins."

 

*********

 

" _Dimmock_ "

"Theo, it's Frankie. You've heard about Billy?"

" _Yes. DCI Draper is taking a personal interest in his case. She's annoyed there are no leads_."

"Hmm. A personal interest…"

" _Well, there's the Greg connection, of course…_ "

"Theo. I'm pretty sure you know she's dodgy."

" _I cant speculate about that sort of thing with you, Frankie._ "

"Theo. There were witnesses to Billy's…departure…from the club."

" _Gimme_."

"He was dragged from the club, clearly under the influence of something. I saw that myself. So did Sally Donovan, and she's got a sample of a suspect liquid, but by the time we got outside he was gone. However, a very reliable source saw him being led to a car. He was throwing up, Theo. There will be DNA and other evidence in and on that car."

" _How many cars do you think there are in London? And I'm not even going to ask why you and Sally were at the Electric Ballroom together._ "

"We were dancing. And it was navy blue. A Nissan. Number plate LK25 TMP. There will be Billy's stomach contents inside and possibly on the outside of the near side rear door. There will be damage to the outside of that door as well, probably a bit of a dent, some scraping, blood. Consistent with someone being hit in the face with the door."

" _But Solange said there were no leads…_ "

"There will possibly be trace evidence of a female driver. Long red hair…"

" _Fuck, Frankie. Does Sally know this_?"

"No."

" _Don't tell her just yet. I'm on my way. Is Greg still there?"_

"No. Sal's taken him to get some dry clothes. He went in the canal. He'll be back, I expect. Him and big Lucy are both beside themselves."

" _Stupid sod. He's too old for that sort of caper._ "

"It was _Billy_ , Theo."

" _Yeah. I know. I'll see your witness. Take a statement. Got a name and address?"_

"Come to bay 6 in the A&E at UCH. He's here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A&E is the commonly used acronym for "Accident & Emergency". Not all UK hospitals have these departments nowadays, due to funding cuts etc, but UCH (University College Hospital) does have one at the time of writing.


	5. Vigil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy is in a coma.

Luce looks up wearily as he hears the sound of familiar footsteps approaching.

"Hello, Luce. Any change?"

"No, sir. Has she been arrested yet?"

Lestrade sighs and rests his hand on Luce's shoulder.

"No, Luce. We can't move against her yet."

"He could have died. He might still die." Luce breaks off into a half-sob, fights to control his voice. "He might be brain-damaged…"

"And it's not fair that she should be walking around free while he's lying there in a coma. I know, Luce. But this thing she's mixed up in, it's bigger than Billy, bigger than the homeless network murders, bigger than anything we've dealt with before. We've got to wait for her to make a slip."

"What if she just has an accident?"

"I didn't hear you say that, Luce. And don't even dream along those lines. She's not the kingpin. We need that name…"

Luce sighs.

"I know. If anything happens to her, someone else will step up. Are you actually retired, sir?"

"You were at my retirement party…"

"Yes, sir."

Lestrade squeezes his shoulder.

"You go and get some rest, Luce. Frankie said he'd drop by your place and put a casserole in the oven for you. Go and get some hot food inside you and a couple of hours kip."

Luce begins to protest, but is cut off by Lestrade.

"I'll call you straight away if there's any change. I promise."

Luce nods and gets up. Lestrade takes his place on the not-very-comfortable chair at Billy's bedside and settles down to keep vigil.

 

*********

 

"You look exhausted, Lucy-love. Go and have a shower while I dish up some food for you."

Luce doesn't even rise to the 'Lucy' bait. He is too tired. He walks to the ensuite shower, dropping clothes as he goes. He dials the heat up, letting the almost-too-hot water pummel his shoulders and back. Feeling better, he reaches for his shower gel, finding the bottle empty. He shrugs and picks up Billy's, smiling as the smell of Ajaccio Violets fills the bathroom.

He washes his hair, finger-combing the loose ringlets into a semblance of tidiness. He dresses in pyjama pants and a sweatshirt, then pads, barefoot, to the kitchen, where Frankie is ladling shin-of-beef stew into bowls.

"Four bowls, Frankie?"

"Yeah. Theo's on his way over, and he's bringing Micky Jay."

 

*****

 

Micky finishes a second half-bowl of the stew and yawns.

"Can I sleep on the floor in here?"

Luce frowns

"Your own room's just downstairs, Micky."

"I know, Mr Thompkiss. I just feel a bit worried."

"Theo and I are going shortly…"

Luce look at Frankie in panic.

"No! What if Greg calls? What if I have to dash back to the hospital? I can't leave Micky on his own here…"

Frankie looks at Dimmock, shrugs.

"Sorry Theo. He's right. I should stay here."

"All right." Dimmock smiles, weakly. "I'll give you a call tomorrow?"

Frankie smiles.

"Yes. I'll walk down stairs with you, grab one of the mattresses from the hall for Micky to sleep on."

Dimmock pushes his chair back and grabs his coat from the arm of the sofa. He nods at Luce and gently ruffles Micky's hair before turning to Frankie.

"Come on then, lead the way."

Frankie ushers him out of the front door and down the two flights of stairs to the next floor. On the darkened landing, they kiss for the first time since Frankie came back from Canada, three months ago.

"Mm. You've stopped smoking."

"Yeah. You've started drinking."

"Just the odd glass. And never when I'm working or driving. I'm not doing either tonight. Had plans." Frankie grins, sliding a leg between Dimmock's thighs and pushing him against the wall. "Pity about Micky. Can't blame him, though. I think what happened to Bill has really scared him."

Dimmock coughs. He had forgotten how easily Frankie can smack him in the libido if he puts his mind to it.

"You're taking a lot for granted here…"

"I'll take no for an answer. _If you say no._ "

"I'll call you tomorrow."


	6. Why is it dark?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy wakes from his coma.

Lestrade wakes, sweating and uncomfortable. He swears as he realises he has fallen asleep, fully clothed, in his armchair again. The lamp is lit, the television and the gas fire are both on, and he has spilled whisky down his trouser leg from the tumbler he had poured before sitting down for a brief rest after coming home from the hospital.

He sighs. The suit needed cleaning anyway, but this is the third time his trousers have got more out of his glass of scotch than he has. He gets up and trudges to the shower. Work beckons. He has survived on two or three hours of sleep before, he can do it again.

 

*********

 

Billy panics. He can't breathe, he is choking. He struggles against the hands on his shoulders holding him down. He can't speak, there is an obstruction in his throat. It is pitch dark, and he is frightened.

"It's all right, Dr Wiggins. You're trying to fight the ventilator. That's why breathing feels difficult. Try not to panic, we'll have you unhooked in a couple of ticks."

The voice is female, well-modulated and professional with not a trace of anxiety. It calms Billy a little, and the machine bleeps and dings calm down as well. Billy realises the bleeping machines are attached to him, and that he is in hospital. He coughs as instructed, pain rasping in his throat and pulsing in his head.

"Mouth's sore…"

"We'll get you some water in a moment." The nurse wipes Billy's lips with a damp sponge. "Need to wait for the doctor to see you."

"Need to call…" he coughs again.

"Your friend is here. I'll get him to come and sit with you."

The nurse bustles away. Billy hears her swish through swing doors, hears the rumble of a voice he recognises. Footsteps approach his bed, and the curtains around it are drawn back a little.

"You're awake."

"Yeah."

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit," he rasps, faintly. "Lucien. Why's it so dark?"

The reply is too long in coming. Billy reaches out a hand to where he thinks Luce is, touches fabric and hangs on tight. Lucien pats Billy's hand where it is hanging on to his sleeve.

"The doctor will be here in a minute. He'll be able to tell us what's going on."

 

*********

 

" _He's awake."_

Lestrade sits down with a thump on the park bench, the man he was quietly tailing forgotten for the moment.

"Is he okay? Does he know who you are, where he is?"

" _Yes. He's got some missing memories though. About four days' worth…_ "

"No idea what happened to him, then?"

" _Apparently not. And there's something else…_ "

"Tell me, Luce."

" _He's blind._ "

"What do you mean, blind?"

" _No vision. Total blackness. He's really scared, Greg._ "

"What caused it?"

" _They're not sure yet. He's gone down for a scan. It'd be good if you could be here when he gets back…_ "

"Yeah. Of course. I'm on my way."

 

*********

 

When Lestrade arrives at UCH, Sally Donovan is there, tearing her hair out.

"What's wrong Sal?"

"He's useless. Completely unreliable."

"How do you mean?"

"Greg, he was at the Electric Ballroom, all tarted up. Eyeliner and leather trousers, you know…. Frankie Knox and I both saw him. He was obviously on the pull. He says he can't remember."

"He's had a bang on the head Sal, and he's been in a coma for over a week. Maybe the memories will come back…"

"Doubtful. Bugger. I can't discuss this case with you. Sorry. I shouldn't really have mentioned it at all."

Lestrade nods his understanding. He is here as a friend of the victim, not as an investigating officer. Sally is just doing her job. Luckily, she doesn't know the details of _his_ current job, or his sources, inside and outside of the Yard.

"I'm going in to see him. Anything you want me to ask?"

"You know I'll pull you in as a witness anyway. You helped get him out of the canal…"

"Yeah. But I didn't see him go _in_."

"No. Looks like nobody did. I thought that kid…" she flicks through memos on her iPad. " _Micky Jay_. Thought he'd have more to give us, but he got a bang on the head as well. And now he's disappeared…"

Lestrade pats her shoulder

"Lot of homeless kids disappearing lately…"

"Yes. Greg, if he _does_ say anything helpful…"

"I'll let you know."

 

*********

 

"Don't keep on at me. I can't remember, Theo. Greg, tell him."

"It's important, Bill. It looks as if you got caught up in something really big."

"All right. But Inspector Donovan keeps on about the Electric. Why would I have gone there on my own?"

"There's CCTV footage, Bill. You did go there. That's all I know. How far back can you remember?"

Billy smiles, the first time since he woke up.

"I was three, I think. The neighbour's cat had kittens. My gran caught me trying to nick one…"

Dimmock laughs, the strain leaving his face for a moment.

"Okay. Still pedantic. You got your tag taken off on the 19th of March. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah. Then I went with Lucien to open up a storage container I'd hired when I first went to live in France. I went back the next day with Frankie to pick up the motorbikes…"

Dimmock nods, striking items from his latest list.

"What about the next couple of days?"

"Nothing unusual. I had a bit of a row with Lucien about the bike. He didn't like me riding it. And we had a bigger row about me weighing myself too often." Billy shrugs, wincing as a headache catches him. "He thinks I'm anorexic."

Billy reaches out to where he thinks the bedside cabinet is. Lestrade hands him a lidded cup of water. Billy scowls. Lestrade strokes Billys hand.

"Do you row a lot?"

"No. Hardly ever, really. But he thinks I'm too thin." He huffs out a tiny laugh. "I won't be when I get out of here. I'm on a dextrose drip."

He sips from the spout in the lid of his cup.

 

"This feels like a baby cup. We had a really big row about me going to Scotland to see Mycroft. Lucien wanted to go with me, but he had a conference booked. I'd just got my passport back, I wanted to move, to be free. I told him he'd have to cancel his conference or I'd go on my own." He flushes, ashamed. "It was an important conference. I was being really childish. In the end we agreed I'd go by myself, but on the train, not the bike. And I'd let him put a tracker on me. Red pill."

Dimmock nods.

"That's how we found you. Frankie had a copy of the tracking software on his phone."

"Yeah. I've got one as well. And Lucien of course. It's an app."

Lestrade snorts, he knows the origin of the 'red pill' tracker.

"I'd like to see that tracker. And the software."

"Ask Lucien. He developed it."

"I will. So you decided to get the train to Scotland?"

"Yeah. Wednesday morning. I remember getting on the train. And that's all."

"There's footage of you in Paris on Saturday. At the Gare du Nord, lunchtime. And you called Luce from the train, said you might go to the Electric on the Saturday night…"

"I don't remember that. Why would I be in _Paris_?"

"I don't know, Bill. But your call got cut off when you went into the tunnel. Luce thought it was a bit odd. He asked Frankie to keep an eye on you."

Billy leans back against the pillows, wincing at the pain in his head.

"I'm tired. Theo, can we stop for a bit?"

Dimmock nods, remembers Billy can't see him and squeezes his hand.

"We'll let you rest, Bill."

There is no answer. Billy is asleep. Lestrade nods dismissal to Dimmock, and stays.


	7. Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luce takes Micky to the safe house in France, and learns something about Billy's motives.

"Are you sure you'll be okay? I have to go back to London."

Micky Jay nods, clearly still a little worried, but happy to be in a safer place than Camden.

"Michelle and Claude are really kind. And my room's really nice." He peers at Luce, taking in bruises and scrapes. "Are you all right?"

Luce smiles.

"Yes. It was just a bit of rough and tumble. Didn't mean to scare you."

Luce rotates his shoulders, wincing a little. He can feel the pull of the dried blood in the hair around the cut on the side of his head, and he can feel bruises developing on his limbs and torso.

"You sounded really angry…"

"Yes, I expect I did. Never mind, it's all done now."

 

*********

 

"You are going to have a black eye. What possessed you to fist-fight with him?"

"He needed to express his disapproval."

"You easily outclass him hand-to-hand. Why didn't you just drop him?"

"That would not have been useful. He needed to get his feelings out of his system. Better he should fight me than brood and perhaps come to a more difficult conclusion."

Sherlock flushes

"What conclusion?"

"The conclusion that Billi's own brother is complicit in the actions that caused Billi's blindness…"

Arkady shrugs away from Sherlock's ministrations. Blood seeps from the cut in his eyebrow that Sherlock is trying to clean.

"Leave it. I will clean up myself later. You have been getting reports from Grisha."

"Yes."

"And you decided not to share those reports with me."

"It would not have been helpful."

"You mean I would not have approved." Arkady's voice is completely flat. "If I had known what you were planning…"

"You would have kept him here, and caused problems for Greg. He needed to draw Solange out of her cover."

"And was she drawn out?"

"To some extent. Young Micky witnessed her participating in Billy's abduction from the night club."

"He is reliable?"

"Lestrade and Thompkiss think so."

Arkady hmphs.

"Your plan has not exactly worked as you expected."

"What did Thompkiss tell you?"

"That Billi had a cocktail of drugs in his system when he was pulled from the canal. That the drugs varied between fast-acting soluble Flunitrazepam and slow-release Diazepine tablets, taken over a period of several hours. That the effect of these drugs, coupled with the liquid Rohypnol given to him in beer combined to almost kill him. That he sustained a heavy blow to the back of his head, most likely from the canal bank when he was dumped in the water. That he inhaled canal water and stopped breathing. That he was in a deep coma for four days and semi-conscious, on a ventilator for two more. That he is totally blind and has no memory of events after getting on a train to Scotland."

Sherlock is silent. Arkady takes a deep breath and continues.

"Luka has deduced that Billi must have taken the drugs himself for reasons he does not know. Luka thinks he was trying to end his life because of something that happened in the missing days. He thinks it is something I did, and blames me for it. This is why I let him fight me."

"Billy would never kill himself. He has been in some very dark places, Arkasha, very dark, and he has never, never attempted suicide. He and I are not alike in that respect."

"I know. I think he was deliberately trying to cause amnesia. To forget who he saw here. I think you helped him."

 


	8. Losing my marbles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy is afraid

Billy's recovery is slow and frustrating. It is a month before he can stand unsupported without nausea and giddiness. He realises that balance is affected by vision a great deal.

Luce visits him in hospital every day, and then, when he is moved to a south coast nursing home for convalescence, three times a week, alternating with Frankie. Lestrade visits when he can, and Dimmock drops by to talk ostensibly about the police case, but actually to be a sounding board for all the misery that Billy doesn't want to offload onto Lestrade and Luce.

Arkady and Sherlock continue with the activities that have kept them abroad, although less comfortably in each others' company than before.

Three months after Billy was pulled from the canal, he has a surprise visitor.

 

*********

 

"Hello Bill."

Billy turns his head towards the voice. It is not one he will ever forget.

"What do you want?"

"Heard you had done yourself some damage. Thought I might be able to help."

"Got a magic anti-blindness gadget, have you?"

"Don't be like that, Bill." Liam Callaghan shuffles his feet a little, looks around for a spare chair. "You know how I was able to help Frankie…"

"Why?"

Liam clears his throat.

"I still care for you…"

"Try again."

 

"Exposure for my research, then. You're a name. It would be good for me. And I _might_ be able to get you some vision back. I'd need to see your case notes, of course."

"Not in a million years, Liam. Do you really think I'd let _you_ poke around in my brain?"

"You let me poke around in Frankie's brain."

"I could read your papers then. I understood what you were doing. I haven't seen any work you've done on visual impairment. And you hadn't spent months battering me when you augmented Frankie's hearing. Did he tell you I was here?"

"No. There's a nurse here that was in Calgary when we were there. She recognised you and told a friend. Word travels…"

Billy relaxes a little. He is glad that Frankie hasn't betrayed his confidence. He tenses again as he feels Liam's breath against his cheek, followed by a dry closed-mouth kiss.

"I'll send you my papers, darlin'. Get someone to read them to you."

 

*********

 

"He was here, Greg. And he's sent me some papers."

Lestrade is outraged, contacts Billy's solicitors immediately and requests that they ask for a restraining order to prevent any further approaches from Billy's ex-husband. He phones Dimmock as well, to put him in the picture.

"I'll have a word with reception staff here on my way out. Put the frighteners on them a bit. He won't disturb you again."

Billy smiles and stands up, white cane in his hand.

"Lucien's developed this proximity-sensor. It's an app, on my phone. It's supposed to vibrate when I'm about to bump into anything. Come for a walk with me? Help me try it out?"

Lestrade cups Billy's elbow lightly, and they make their slow way out into the grounds.

 

*********

 

Frankie stretches his legs out in front of him, catching the last rays of sun as they stream through Billy's window.

"Well?"

"It's a Liam Callaghan paper. Has his usual touch of arrogance…"

"But does it make sense, Frankie?"

"Yes. It's a bit simplistic. Aimed at journalists, I reckon, rather than the science community."

Billy swallows, his throat tight. When he speaks, his voice is small and shaky.

"I don't understand it, Frankie." He drags in a deep breath. "At least, I understand the words, but I can't visualise the processes, can't see how it works." He sniffs. "I can't see how the maths works…"

"Maybe your text-to-speech app isn't translating symbols…"

"It is. I just… I'm losing my marbles, Frankie."

Frankie is appalled.

"This is a new paper. You haven't seen it before."

"But you said it was simple. I could always understand Liam's work…"

Frankie tries not to let his worry creep into his voice. He can hear panic in Billy's.

"Maybe it's still the concussion."

"It's been months. I want to talk to the specialists. And I want you there. In case I don't understand things."


	9. I want to talk…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's ex-husband doesn't know what he has got himself into.

"Shall we try again, Dr Callaghan?"

Luce leans back against the wall. He has been interviewing Liam Callaghan for hours, and his back and behind are aching from the hard chair in the interview room.

"You have to charge me or let me go. You have to give me access to my solicitors…"

Luce smiles tightly.

"You misunderstand, Dr Callaghan. I don't have to let you go, I don't have to give you access to anyone or anything. You have stumbled into something that gives me extraordinary powers over you. I suggest you think on that, while I go and get something to eat."

"What about me? I'm hungry. I need the toilet."

"You'll get hungrier. I'll have a bucket brought for you to use."

Luce leaves the room and sags against the corridor wall. 

"That was a nasty little touch." Lestrade grins, shark teeth gleaming. "Not at all like you, Luce."

Luce shudders.

"He could do a lot of damage inside Bill's head."

"He's not getting anywhere near Bill's head."

"I know that. I'm not sure if he really thought Bill would let him perform a procedure. But I don't mean physically. I mean by talking to him, influencing his thoughts…"

"Yeah. We need to know who told him Bill was at the convalescence home. And why. We've talked to all the staff, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't any of them. Keep at him, Luce."

Luce frowns.

"It feels wrong, Greg. I'm not police any more…"

"Well, this isn't exactly a police operation, is it?" Lestrade smiles."I'd do it myself, but he knows me. He knows Dimmock as well. You're an unknown quantity, Luce. He won't know how to read you, how to wind you up."

 

*********

 

Liam lies in the brightly lit cell, his mind racing. He has, finally, been fed (a bland white-bread tuna sandwich); and given access to an actual toilet stall (doorless and separated from his plastic foam mattress by a half-height concrete block wall). He has been strip-searched for contraband, although what he could have hidden under his tongue or up his arse he can't imagine. His clothes have been taken away. His modesty is covered by a pair of disposable paper shorts that he has to hold up, scrunched in his hand, as the waist is not elasticated.

The cell is warm enough, but he shivers anyway, from anxiety more than chill. He is beginning to realise that what he had thought of as a bit of a lark, a bit of pocket money, a chance for a bit of payback for his ex, has turned into something far deeper, far darker, far more dangerous.

The only thing he has to decide is whether to trust his contact, or throw himself on the mercy of the big, curly-haired, possibly secret service guy who seems to know more about him than anyone has any business to.

He tries to sleep. At least they are allowing him that. And no one has hit him. Yet.

He dozes, uncomfortable on the thin mattress. He has no idea what the time is, how long he has been held. There is no window to the outside. He thinks he might be being held underground in any case. After a time, he doesn't know how long, a uniformed guard brings him food. Cereal and milk, cardboard bowl and soft, pliable plastic spoon. There is tea, milky, loaded with sugar, lukewarm in a polythene mug. The guard has no insignia on her uniform. Liam still has no idea who is holding him. The guard watches him eat and drink and takes the used cup, bowl and spoon with her when she leaves.

Liam sits on the mattress and waits. He doesn't know what to do. He thinks about his contact; Irish and red-haired, like himself. She had maybe dated an older cousin of his, he thinks, but can't quite recall. Classy, but hard-faced. She'd be out of his league, if he wasn't gay. He racks his brains. What was it he'd heard about her recently?

It comes to him finally. " _Yes. She got engaged to one of Bill's exes. That copper. Greg something…"_ He remembers not liking Greg Something very much. The knowledge that his contact is connected to that man spurs him into action. He stumbles to the door, grabbing his shorts as they threaten to fall down. He bangs on the door, hard and urgent.

"Did you want something?" The officer raises an eyebrow.

"I want to talk to the big guy. I don't know his name…"


	10. What next?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade and Mycroft make plans.

Lestrade sighs and stretches. He feels full, wants to loosen his belt, but hasn't yet reached that level of casual comfort with his companion, despite their engagement, now several months old. He had taken care over the meal, made sure he cooked Solange's favourite dishes.

"That was very good. You spoil me."

Solange smiles, pouring Lestrade a third glass of wine and taking her own over to the sofa. She beckons him over, patting the seat next to her. He follows, as eager as a man in his sixties with a beautiful, and much younger, fiancée can be, sitting slightly closer than comfort dictates, his arm along the back of the sofa.

"I still don't really know what you see in me."

"You know you're a silver fox, Greg."

Solange's tinkling laugh puts Lestrade's teeth on edge. He sighs inwardly as he makes the required outward effort.

"Stay tonight?"

"You know I'd like to. But I'm on call…"

Lestrade nuzzles into her hair, leans against her, pinning her against the back of the sofa.

"Please, Solange. You know what you do to me…"

"No Greg."

She pushes him away, but not too hard.

"You're a tease, Solange."

"Yes. And you love it." She smiles, kissing his cheek. "Not much longer until the wedding. Then you can have your wicked way with me every night."

"I don't know if I can wait much longer. Please, Solange…"

Solange pouts.

"You know I can't bear it when you beg like this. I have to go, Greg, before I …"

"Stay. Please."

"No."

Solange twists out of Lestrade's arms and stands up. She smiles as he collects her coat from the hallway and helps her on with it.

"I'll call you a cab, then."

"No need. I booked one earlier." She checks the time on her tiny jewelled wristwatch. Cartier. Not affordable on a DCI's salary. "It will be here in a couple of minutes. No need to walk me downstairs."

She picks up her bag, stretches up for a goodnight kiss, and leaves.

Lestrade waits until she has started down the steps before walking quickly to the darkened window in the knocked-through next door flat, overlooking the street. He photographs the car that pulls up, making sure he gets the number. His phone is equipped with a state-of-the-art, Thompkiss-designed camera. He uses its zoom function to get a good picture of the driver, and of the male passenger in the rear seat, frowning as Solange climbs in beside him, nestling closer than an engaged woman ought to.

 

*********

 

" _Finnemore. Paraic Finnemore."_

"Are you certain?"

_"Yes. This is a very big development, Gregor._ "

Lestrade whistles under his breath.

"Have we got enough evidence?"

" _Yes. Finally, we have. Thank you for your…diligence."_

"I thought for a few scary weeks that I might actually have to marry her." Lestrade laughs, a bark of almost-humour. "Good job she was trying as hard not to be seduced as I was trying not to seduce…"

" _Indeed_." Lestrade can hear the wry grin on Mycroft's face. Notices when his voice turns thoughtful. " _Liam Callaghan turned out to be a very useful surprise…"_

_"_ Yeah. His dislike of me played him right into Thompkiss's hands."

" _I will alert Sherlock and Arkady. Arkady first, I think. They will have much to do._ "

Lestrade can hear tightness in Mycroft's voice. He pushes the thought of Sherlock's recent actions into the back of his mind.

"Okay. Good. I'll leave deployment of troops in your capable hands, then."

" _I assume you wish to be arresting officer for Solange Draper?_ "

Lestrade considers the matter for a moment. He is tempted.

"No. I'll let Dimmock have that bit of kudos. The DCI job will be vacant again…"

" _Generous_ …"

"He deserves it. Will you come back to London?"

" _Yes. Jack will stay in Scotland with the children for a while longer. I don't want to take the slightest risk with their safety."_

"Bill is worried about how Hero will react to his blindness…"

" _Children are resilient, I have discovered. She will adapt. Will you keep her with you in London?_ "

"Yeah. For as long as Bill wants to stay in London. I can work here as easily as in Toulouse. It will probably end up depending on schools."

" _Do you intend to live as a family then? With Bill?_ "

"He wants to be with his daughter. So do I. We'll have to see how it all works out." He sighs. "There's still Thompkiss to think about, as well. And Arkady. It's not going to be easy."

" _At least we can bring everyone home now. It is hard to see children separated from their parents…_ "

"Yeah. And you can pick up the Westminster reins again…"

" _Yes. I am looking forward to setting a few cats among the departmental pigeons. Much as I have enjoyed spending time with the boys, I find I am not quite ready to be a stay-at-home father. Jack is much better at that than I._ "

"What about the other lad?"

" _Rufus? He will return to London at the same time as Hero and my boys. His father will be very happy to see him. Which reminds me that I must interview some new security personnel. I will be taking personal charge of the mopping up operation, Gregor. I hope you do not mind…_ "

"Not at all. Glad to hand it over to you. Bill wants me to get involved in his investigation of the homeless kids…"

" _Yes. Talk to the tattooed man. And involve Lucien. They can bring you up to date."_

 

*********

 

Lestrade makes a coffee and takes it out to his fire-escape terrace. The night is chilly, but not too cold. He breathes a long sigh of relief, sips his coffee and relaxes. He is free of Solange, and soon he will be free to restart his life with his daughter in a Britain held safe again by Mycroft Holmes and a new government.

Billy will be coming home from convalescence in a few weeks; what sort of impact will that have on his life, and Hero's? Will Billy want to live in St John's Wood, or Camden? Or France? What sort of relationship will he and Billy have? Will Luce be a permanent member of the household? What role will Arkady have in their lives? How will Hero cope with living with both her parents at the same time? Will she be able to cope with Billy's blindness? Where will she go to school?

Lestrade lets his mind drift a little, different futures unravelling in front of him, tangling in knots. He laughs and shakes his head, driving them away.

Best take things as they come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this story. But not the end of the irregulars. I find I can't leave the Billyverse just yet.


End file.
